


Half of my Heart

by owlhart (saidanon)



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:20:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29462664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saidanon/pseuds/owlhart
Summary: And it is the little things that give her away - it is in the odd question she asks and the curt response which says so little yet reveals so much; it is in the way her nostrils flare with frustration and her eyes flash with defiance when she is tasked with making an impossible choice; it is in the sharp inhale as she steadies herself to do what is necessary and in the quite exhale as she holds the pain and hurt close to her chest and buries it there.And Triss realises she loves what the others cannot see, what they cannot understand.
Relationships: Philippa Eilhart/Triss Merigold
Kudos: 10





	Half of my Heart

_Half of my heart's got a grip on the situation, half of my heart takes time. Half of my heart's got a right mind to tell you that I can't keep loving you._

She doesn’t realise it at first - how she spends more time observing the other sorceress at summits and meetings, watching her cornflower blue eyes sparkle with warmth and light up in delight at the simplest things; how her dress clings to her curves in all the right places as she sashays across the ballroom, drawing all eyes towards her; how she keeps tabs on her ascension in the court ranks, pouring over countless reports on the Temerian court compiled by the Redanian intelligence.

It is mere curiousity and basic political astuteness, Philippa tells herself - a matter of being aware of every major player in the game, especially a sorceress of such capabilities. But it has been a long time since she has been so intrigued by another and she starts to notice the lingering glances and the twisting in her gut every time she encounters Triss Merigold, how she can’t help but hang onto her every word for something as mundane as trading pleasantries. She starts to notice the way her skin seems to tingle when Triss brushes past her, the way her mind keeps drifting back to pale skin, chestnut curls and cornflower blue eyes. 

Philippa fights to keep her emotions in check and her mind clear because she cannot allow her judgement to be clouded by something as fickle and unpredictable as infatuation. But Triss’ intelligence is captivating, her talent and potential boundless and her beauty intoxicating, and Philippa cannot stop thinking about her. 

She maintains her stoic and impassive facade and Triss is none the wiser, but Philippa cannot lie to herself - not when her heart skips a beat at the sight of her, when a smile curls her lips at the sound of her name. 

She is falling for her and Philippa doesn’t know if it is something she desires.

* * *

_Half of my heart's got a real good imagination, half of my heart's got you. Half of my heart's got a right mind to tell you that half of my heart won't do._

"Are you in love with her?”

Triss stares at Yennefer in confusion.

“Who?”

Yennefer rolls her eyes in exasperation and changes the subject so skillfully that Triss doesn’t realise it until they have parted ways.

The next time someone implies something of a similar nature, albeit in a much more crude way, is when she returns to her shared quarters with Keira.

“You’ve been gone a long time.”

“I was catching up with Yennefer.”

Keira arches a surprised eyebrow. 

“Oh, I thought you were with Philippa.”

“Philippa?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Why _Philippa_?”

Keira scrunches up her nose and flops onto the bed. “Exactly. Although I suppose she is very beautiful and from what I hear, _amazing_ in bed.”

Triss stares at Keira with her mouth open, who shoots her a grin. 

“Tell me. Is it true?”

The grin widens as a myriad of emotions dance across Triss’ face, leaving Triss completely red in the face.

“I-what? How would I know? What? Why would you even ask me that?”

Keira simply shrugs. “I thought you two were fucking. Everyone can see the way you look at Philippa.”

Ignoring the misguided assumption that feelings of attraction automatically equated to two persons engaging in sexual activities, it’s all just a bit much for Triss to process at the moment.

She admires Philippa, greatly - the older sorceress is one of the most talented and powerful sorceresses in the Northern Kingdoms and one of the most beautiful people Triss knows - but love is an entirely different thing. But then again, is it really as farfetched as it sounded? 

She hears the things people say about Philippa - how she is manipulative and calculated, cold and ruthless; but politics is a murky game, splashed in shades of grey and behind her actions lies the simple motivation and determination to do what is best for her people, to protect the ones she cares about. And who could fault her for that?

It is something Triss understands.

It is something she respects.

The burden of carrying the fate of an entire kingdom on one’s shoulders, to bear the brunt of suspicion and disdain of men fearing her power and influence - it is tiring, it is lonely and it is a price few are willing to pay. But Philippa carries the weight with quiet determination and dignified strength - she bears it because she cares, even if other people cannot see it.

And it is the little things that give her away - it is in the odd question she asks and the curt response which says so little yet reveals so much; it is in the way her nostrils flare with frustration and her eyes flash with defiance when she is tasked with making an impossible choice; it is in the sharp inhale as she steadies herself to do what is necessary and in the quite exhale as she holds the pain and hurt close to her chest and buries it there.

And Triss realises she loves what the others cannot see, what they cannot understand.

She goes to bed, a haze of muddled thoughts clouding her mind and she dreams of featherlight touches and tender kisses, gentle hands caressing and exploring every inch of her bare skin. It leaves a trail of fire in its wake and elicits breathy gasps and needy moans from her, sending insatiable waves of pleasure that wash over her over and over and over again. And it is all a blur, melting from white hair and calloused hands to dark hair and onyx eyes, the coolness of metal and a distinctly male voice warping into the feeling of leather and soft sheets, a female voice whispering into her ear. And when the shadowy figure starts to come into focus, the colours bleed into one and she wakes with tears in her eyes.

* * *

_Your faith is strong but I can only fall short for so long. Down the road, later on, you will hate that I never gave more to you than half of my heart._

No one looks at her the way Philippa does, smouldering and intense with a fire that ignites her soul, with tender care that is simultaneously layered with distant aloofness and with an honest love tempered with pragmatism. 

“I have given you everything I can give,” Philippa says in a low voice, face betraying nothing even as Triss stares back at her with tears in her eyes. “But I cannot give you everything I have.” 

She will never love her selfishly or embrace her without abandon because although Triss may have her heart, she will never own it. 

Triss knows this well, but a part of her has always held out hope that there could be more even as another part has always convinced herself that what she has is enough.

She should have seen this coming. 

There were the peaceful moments where they settle into comfortable silence, staring out at the setting sun, when Philippa makes her feel like she’s the only one she sees, like she is her entire world; there were moments of pure passion, maddening nights of ecstasy and innocent bliss. But it is the volatile ones that stick; where they fight, violently, viciously and vindictively, ripping into each other’s insecurities and tearing open old wounds. Philippa has always been able to cut where it hurt the most with nothing but a few words and Triss has always worn her heart on her sleeve, allowing her emotions to guide her.

“We both knew this would never last,” Philippa continues slowly. “You need more. You _deserve_ more. And I cannot give you that.”

The unspoken apology is like a knife to her chest and the tears spill over as Triss chokes on a sob. Philippa sighs and wraps her in an embrace. And when the tears subside, she brushes them away with her thumbs gently and places a kiss on her forehead. Triss takes a shuddering breath, breathing in the familiar scent of her lover and they lean on each other, foreheads touching. She knows this is Philippa’s way of saying “I love you” and her way of saying goodbye.

“Take care, Triss,” Philippa murmurs and turns to leave.

Philippa cannot bring herself to look back and Triss cannot stop her heart from shattering.

_But I can’t stop loving you with half of my heart._

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics from Half of my Heart by John Mayer


End file.
